


no angels could beckon me back and it's hotter than hell where i'm at

by aobahime (hereiamramblingagain)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Azure Moon - Freeform, Cunnilingus, Dildos, F/F, Fingering, Multi, No Spoilers, Oral Sex, Porn Without Plot, Post Time Skip, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/F, annette/mercedes/ingrid, mostly dom mercedes, pre established annette/mercedes, sub annette, switch ingrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26658739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereiamramblingagain/pseuds/aobahime
Summary: “I’m surprised, Ingrid. This isn’t really what I expected of you,”“Wh-! What did you expect?”“You’re just so headstrong and confident in battle. I’m surprised you’re so... embarrassed.”Ingrid groans and throws her arm up to cover her eyes. Her heart is pounding despite the fact that she is still mostly clothed, and she can barely bring herself to speak a coherent thought knowing Annette and Mercedes are watching her.“It’s okay to be embarrassed,” Annette chimes in, tone far more teasing than soothing. “We’re here to help you!”
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Annette Fantine Dominic/Mercedes von Martritz, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz, ingrid brandl galatea/annette fantine dominic/mercedes von martritz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	no angels could beckon me back and it's hotter than hell where i'm at

**Author's Note:**

> dont even look at me okay it is what it is
> 
> too many shes im sorry if it gets confusing. i proofed this as many times as i could stand to read it which was not very many. this was so much longer than anticipated and its. all porn. enjoy that :,)

“I’m surprised, Ingrid. This isn’t really what I expected of you,” 

“Wh-! What did you expect?”

“You’re just so headstrong and confident in battle. I’m surprised you’re so... embarrassed.”

Ingrid groans and throws her arm up to cover her eyes. Her heart is pounding despite the fact that she is still mostly clothed, and she can barely bring herself to speak a coherent thought knowing Annette and Mercedes are watching her. 

“It’s okay to be embarrassed,” Annette chimes in, tone far more teasing than soothing. “We’re here to help you!” 

“Ingrid, tell us if we go too far okay?” Mercedes' soft voice makes the knight’s stomach drop in anticipation. Her tone is so innocent it’s tantalizing to hear it say anything so unholy. 

“Okay,” Ingrid says through her arm. 

“Now then,” Annette says, and plops herself down to the bed. “I have to know. Who do you want to be experienced for?” 

Ingrid’s arm slides off her face, but she stares at the sheets. She does not stare at the way Annette’s hand is inches away from her thigh, or how Mercedes still looks so unbothered, sitting tall beside her. She scoots herself so she is resting up on the headboard, and anxiously twiddles her fingers. She thinks she may melt under Mercedes’ gaze. 

“Ah, no one in particular,” she mumbles. “I just, uh, want to be ready...?” 

She wants to know for Mercedes. But she can’t say that. Not in front of Annette. The fact that she even gets this chance is a gift from the goddess. 

“Pshhhh sure. I bet it's..... hm. Dorothea? Ooh, or is she too girly for you? Maybe... Leonie?” 

“Annette, don’t pry.” Mercedes chides. “The real question is... where do you want to be?” 

“W-what?” 

“Do you want to be in control? Or do you-“ She suddenly plants her hands over Ingrid’s thigh, “Like to be pinned down?” 

Ingrid’s mouth goes dry and she stammers. Mercedes is still very much put together, though leaning in closer. Her hands are nowhere near touching anything of importance and Ingrid is relieved and resentful at the same time. Her face is calm, smiling in an almost evil way, and Ingrid cannot handle how it is making her feel. Annette is watching, rapt, a gleeful little smile on her face. “I- I don’t know. I have no idea.” 

“She likes this, Mercie. She’s practically shaking.”

Mercedes turns her head to look at Annette, still leaning close enough that Ingrid can smell her soft hair as it moves. “She can try both.” It’s a proclamation, and Ingrid’s heart pounds. 

Annette giggles, excited by the prospect, “What should I do?” 

“We’re going to make her feel good. Sit up, Ingrid.” 

She cannot put into words how this is making her feel even already. When Annette grabs her arm to help her sit up on the bed, it’s like she's being shocked.

“Relax,” Mercedes breathes in her ear as she moves to kneel behind her, sending shivers through her body. She holds her breath. Annette sits in front, facing her, hands resting on her thighs. 

“Let us know if it’s too much!” Annette says far too cheerfully. She makes no move to touch, watching Mercedes over Ingrid’s shoulder, waiting for instruction. 

Warm breath tickles Ingrid’s ear, and she closes her eyes. Mercedes is directly behind her, but all that touches her is lips and teeth on the shell of her ear. Her eyes fall shut and her lips part, and she can feel her blood rushing around her body. Wet lips make contact with her neck, hands slowly reach around to touch her chest, a warm body presses up against her back. Mercedes bites into her neck, sucking and licking, and Ingrid tilts her head to accommodate, hands fisted uselessly in the hem of her skirt. She jumps slightly as Annette slides her hands up her thighs, and there are so many hands, more hands on her than she can keep track of. She can’t do more than sit there and let them, every touch leaving her even more overwhelmed. 

Suddenly it’s Mercedes’ hands barely touching the insides of her thighs and Annette’s deftly undoing the buttons of her shirt. Access granted, she gives her an enthusiastic squeeze through her bra, and Ingrid moans softly. Mercedes detaches herself long enough to help pull the shirt off the rest of the way, and then unclip her bra. Hooking her chin over her shoulder, she gazes down Ingrid’s body. Both girls are rapt, watching Ingrid’s chest heave. 

“Watch.” 

Ingrid’s eyes snap open in time to see Mercedes cup one of her breasts a little roughly, dragging her palm across her nipple. Her other hand grabs Annette to pull her down. She quickly obeys, taking her other nipple into her mouth. Ingrid gasps, forcing herself to keep her eyes open. Annette releases her with a wet sound before swirling her tongue around, glancing up at her deviously.

The way she feels herself throb, watching her wet mouth and her fluttering eyelashes, Ingrid wonders if Sylvain had been on to something all along. 

Her thoughts muddle quickly as they continue to toy with her. Annette busies herself with appreciating her chest, while Mercedes continues to find every sensitive spot on Ingrid’s neck. Her fingertips drag teasingly over her skin, along the waistline of her skirt and just barely to the insides of her thighs. With every passing second Ingrid loses a little bit of resolve, panting and shaking and bucking into their touch. If someone were to touch her now, she could probably come just like this. 

Suddenly, Mercedes is gone. Annette pulls away, and watches her, ready and eager for her next instruction. Ingrid does not move an inch, and stares at the bedsheets, too embarrassed to do anything else. 

“I think you two are a little overdressed.” It’s a statement, not a command, and yet both Ingrid and Annette move to push off the rest of their clothes. Ingrid stays turned away after she pulls her skirt off, trying to indirectly watch the redhead shuck her own garments. 

Mercedes shifts on the bed, presumably removing her own clothes. “Annie, lay back for us, won’t you?”

Annette shuffles up to the headboard, propping herself up. Ingrid permits herself to look at her, appreciating her slight frame and freckled skin. Her boobs are somehow still perky and round even as she lays back, and Ingrid has the mind to be slightly jealous. She keeps her legs together, tucked up and off to the side, and for the first time looks a little bashful. 

“Spread your legs.” 

Annette obeys without hesitation, turning her face into the pillow. 

A warm hand rests on Ingrid’s shoulder, making her start. “Touch her.” 

As a white mage, Mercedes does very little commanding. She goes where she is needed and generally plays a very supportive role on the battlefield. To hear her command with such a steady voice has Ingrid intoxicated, and she does her best not to hesitate as she reaches forward. 

Still, she hasn’t done this before, and when her hand is close enough to feel Annette’s body heat, she falters. 

“S’okay,” Annette says into the pillow, grey eyes glancing up through her bangs. “Please touch me,” 

Ingrid drags two fingers through her folds, and Annette gasps contentedly. She’s wet, and her fingers slide around easily as she touches. 

“Is she wet?” Mercedes asks. 

Ingrid nods. 

“Answer me.” 

Ingrid has to clear her throat to make a sound. “Y-yes. Very.” 

“Mm. I knew you would enjoy this, Annie.”

Annette gasps as Ingrid’s fingers slip over her clit. “L-like you aren’t, Mercie,”

Ingrid is having trouble focusing on anything. Her fingers slide around easily, and occasionally Annette moans or her thighs shake. She finds a little bit more of a rhythm, and takes pride in the way she begins to twitch under her. Mercedes begins to breathe a bit harder behind her, and Ingrid’s heart hammers in her ears. 

“Don’t you want to taste?” Mercedes asks suddenly, her tone turning more sultry. 

Ingrid realizes she wants nothing more. She draws her fingers back to lick, and the flavor blooms across her tongue. It's unlike anything she’s tasted before, and yet she can’t help but to suck it off her fingers. She is interrupted by a hand on her hip and another on the back of her head. Mercedes pushes her face between Annette’s legs, and suddenly her senses are just enveloped in it. 

“Eat up,” commands Mercedes with a giggle, and Ingrid is happy to comply, despite her concern of inexperience. 

Annette’s thighs are soft on either side of her face, and with every lap of her tongue she makes a soft noise. The flavor dims bit by bit as her wetness is replaced by saliva, but when she dips her tongue down against her opening its back in full force. Once again, it doesn’t take long for Ingrid to find what gets louder noises from Annette. A broad tongue against her clit makes her thighs clench, quick flicks make her put a hand in her hair to push her down. 

“How is it, Annette?” Mercedes sounds more turned on every time she speaks. Ingrid wishes she could see her face, but at least her hands continue to hold her in place, twitching and pushing every so often. 

“S-so good. I can’t believe she hasn’t- ahh- done this before.” 

“Is she going to make you come?” 

“S-soon.” The response fills Ingrid with pride. She doubles down and Annette moans loudly. 

Mercedes lays her hand over Annette’s on her head, and pushes, gently. Ingrid can feel her leaning over the side of her, soft breast pushed up against her arm. Her breath barely brushing over her back makes her break out in goosebumps. 

“Do you like to please her?”

Ingrid feels herself throb. She nods her head slightly, as much as she can manage. Annette is getting louder.

“Do you like the way she tastes?”

Nod. She strains to listen around Annette’s thighs and moans. 

“Do you enjoy making her feel good? Does it turn you on?”

Nod nod nod. Annette tightens her grip in her hair, “Ingrid! Plea-ease don’t stop.”

Ingrid does her best to try to do exactly what it was she was doing with her tongue, but her bucking hips make it hard. She follows the motions with enthusiasm, feeling more and more confident with every one of Annette’s cries. 

“Ingrid, oh goddess, yes!” Annette clamps her thighs down hard around her head, and for a beautiful few seconds all Ingrid knows is blood rushing in her ears and the taste of her in her mouth. After a moment her legs fall open, and Ingrid rests her head on one of her thighs, panting. 

As her eyes refocus, she finally can see Mercedes. Her face is flushed, though she still looks relatively composed, and is looking quite pleased with the whole situation. 

Ingrid is only human, though, and quickly her gaze falls to her boobs. 

Mercedes always wears her shirts buttoned up high like the good, goddess-fearing cleric she is, and also because she doesn’t really need to show any cleavage to make her assets known. Without the support of her shirt or her underthings, her boobs rest heavily against her stomach, looking impossibly soft and round. She shifts slightly, rolling her shoulders back and the minor movement presents them at a whole new angle for Ingrid to appreciate them at. 

“Mercie, what’s next?” Annette’s voice is slightly raspy. 

“Ready for more?”

“Not yet, I’m ready for yours. Or hers.”

Ingrid drags herself to an upright position, head swimming a bit. 

Mercedes looks at her, big blue eyes looking right to her soul. “Feeling more confident?”

“A little bit,” 

“You should be. That was pretty quick work,” She grins deviously, and Annette pouts in response. 

Ingrid tries to break eye contact, and again winds up just staring at her chest. Her boobs bounce a little as she giggles meanly. 

Ingrid reaches out to touch, her desire to feel them overriding any shyness left. Mercedes bats her hand away, tutting. “Your turn. Take her spot.”

Annette scoots out of the way, legs a little shaky. Ingrid very gingerly sets herself up to the headboard, and stares directly at her knees, which stay firmly clamped together. 

Mercedes is kneeling directly in front of her. Annette is close to her side, but clearly waiting for instruction, and Ingrid’s gut turns with the realization that she has Mercedes’ full focus. 

Her hands come to rest on Ingrid’s knees. “Don’t be shy. Spread your legs.” 

Ingrid obeys. She clamps her eyes shut, for some reason scared of her reaction. A moment passes, and then she jumps, gasping as fingertips trail gently down her thighs. They ghost down the sensitive part of her leg, touching all around her but nowhere satisfying. Ingrid sighs shakily, eyes still closed. 

“What’s the matter, Ingrid?”

Ingrid just shakes her head no. 

“No? No what? Do you want me to stop?” Her hand disappears. 

“W-wait-“ Ingrid’s eyes snap open. Mercedes is looking down over her, smirking devilishly, a far cry from her peaceful expressions. Annette is watching in a way that leads Ingrid to believe the teasing is usually directed at her. 

“Wait what?”

Ingrid whines and tosses her head back. “You don’t have to stop.”

“Oh, don’t I?” She sits, unmoving for a minute and then says, “Look at me.”

Ingrid knits her brows together, but ultimately obeys. Her gaze is trained directly on her face as she reaches between them to drag her fingers through her folds. Ingrid’s mouth falls open silently, her brows knitting as she does her best to maintain eye contact even as she touches her. Mercedes grins at her reaction, twisting her hand so she’s able to quickly slide her fingers across- 

“Ah!” Ingrid yelps and her thighs twitch. She catches a glimpse of Mercedes’ extremely pleased expression before she claps her eyes shut once again. 

“So sensitive,” she coos, circling her fingers around teasingly. “Is this-“ she swipes across her clit, “-all it takes?” 

“I’ve never- no one else has ever-“

She silences her with another pass. “I’m glad. I want you to know what feels good.” 

Mercedes begins touching her more intently now, rubbing gently but steadily against her clit. She circles and swipes, and takes Ingrid's gasps and twitches as feedback. Soon electric shocks turn into waves of pleasure, and more and more moans start to escape her. 

A squeak from the other side of the bed draws her attention, and when she opens her eyes she is graced with the image of Annette leaning over Mercedes’ back. Her face is buried in her neck and her hands reach around to cup her boobs. The soft skin spills through her hands, her fingertips circling her nipples. Mercedes’ eyes are lidded, and she gasps again when Annette grabs her a particular way, but her hand doesn’t stray from her task either. Between watching them and the steady rhythm of the hand between her legs, she’s getting close. 

When she subconsciously bucks her hips in time with her hand, Mercedes pulls back. Ingrid blinks blearily up at her, confused, and watches in horrified excitement as she licks the wetness off her fingers. She licks much further down her fingers than is necessary, before returning them to Ingrid. 

Ingrid doesn’t get a teasing remark as warning before Mercedes slips two fingers into her. Moaning, she clutches at the blankets as she smoothly slides her fingers in and out a few times. Testing her reactions, she tries it fast, then hard, and then a harsh curl. Ingrid almost shouts at the last one, and so Mercedes does it again, and again, and again. 

Ingrid is vaguely aware of shifting on the bed, but can’t focus. Instead she’s overwhelmed with the slide of her fingers, pushing up to meet a place that feels so good. The drag of Mercedes’ knuckles against her sensitive opening, the pleasure pooling in her gut; she can’t finish like this, and that’s alright because she doesn’t want it to end. 

Mercedes pulls her fingers out all the way for a moment and Ingrid whines. Her eyes have been clamped shut too long to see anything, but she hears a wet sucking noise and then they’re back, except she’s pushing in three fingers. The stretch burns just a bit, but it is quickly soothed by the warm swipe of a tongue. 

“F-uck, oh Goddess-“

“Keep it up Annette,”

Annette keeps it up, flicking the tip of her tongue across her clit as Mercedes fingers her. Ingrid is moaning fully now, squirming against the sheets. Annette’s body keeps her twitching legs pinned open, giving them full control. 

Mercedes finds one of her hands and moves it to Annette’s head. Ingrid pets her hair idly, not wanting to pull, until Mercedes curls her fingers and she cries out, gripping her head to push her closer. This in turn causes Annette to moan, which vibrates her mouth around Ingrid’s clit. Mercedes fingers her harder, faster, and Annette eats her out with vigor, and Ingrid has never felt so good in her life. 

Her orgasm pools molten hot in her gut before it hits, and when it finally crashes over her she is given no reprieve. She moans and squirms and yanks at Annette’s hair, while the pair go on fucking her like nothing happened. After the longest orgasm she’s ever had she is quickly hurtling toward a second. 

Ingrid babbles incoherently,” Oh Goddess, fuck, yes, it’s good, so good,” and as she gets closer, just a string of “Yes, please, please, please,” 

When she comes again, she thinks maybe she’s died. No sound escapes her as she twitches, the world disappearing for a minute. She barely notices Annette pull back, too busy catching her breath. She does hear Mercedes mumble, “You’re throbbing around my fingers,” and throw her arm across her face in shame, willing herself to relax. After a moment, she slips her fingers free. 

A drawer opens and closes, startling her enough to try to get her eyes open. Mercedes giggles, and Annette asks, “What?”

“Eager for more?”

“Maybe. Aren’t you eager for any?” 

Ingrid finally gets her eyes focused. Annette is holding a dildo, a simple thing but fairly large, attached to a harness. Both girls look to her, smiling with feigned innocence. 

“W-what..?”

“We want you to wear it.” Annette says plainly. “We kinda expected you to be the type to give.”

“Not that we are complaining,”

“Not at all,”

“That was wonderful to watch,” Mercedes cards a hand through her hair and Ingrid’s heart flutters. She’s never seen it so out of place before. 

She looks back down to the strap on. They want her to wear it, to be on top of them. Her mind drifts back to how good it felt to make Annette feel good. The image of Mercedes underneath her making those faces, her calm demeanor breaking, has her standing up quickly to put it on. 

It takes some doing, but soon enough she’s got it fastened comfortably. Looking down on it feels nice in a way she doesn’t have words for, and she gets back onto the bed, kneeling tall. 

Annette has eagerly put herself back up to the head board. She lays flatter than before, fiddling with a tube of lubricant. 

“You are eager,” Ingrid forces the words out, trying to look braver than she feels. She’s taken down demonic beasts with just her lance and yet this feels so much scarier. 

“Here,” Mercedes says, and plucks the lube from Annette’s hands. Ingrid scoots forward on the bed, between her legs. The dildo rests against Annette’s stomach, and Ingrid is slightly worried by the size. She supposes they wouldn’t have it if they couldn’t use it. An image of Mercedes wearing it floats through her head and she throbs a bit, wishing a little she’d known this existed before. 

The sound of the bottle opening startles her, and Mercedes leans forward to dollop some on the dildo. A breath catches in her throat as she slides her hand down the length, coating it. She does it expertly, like she knows how to make it feel good, or at least look good, and Ingrid thinks she’d quite like to kill whatever boy taught her that. 

Looking down, she also doesn’t think Annette really needs that much of it. She starts trying to line herself up, subconsciously waiting for approval. She swipes the head over her clit and Annette twitches, and it reinvigorates her confidence. 

“Ready?”

“She’s so ready. Look at her.” Mercedes’ tone makes them both shiver. Annette just nods and tucks her head into the pillows. 

Ingrid steels herself and begins to push in. Annette’s mouth falls open, and she adjusts her hips ever so slightly. Inching in slowly, she’s slightly alarmed how long it takes for her to become fully seated. Annette is whimpering, and lifts one of her legs off the bed, which Ingrid instinctually grabs. 

“Are you okay?”

Annette nods, eyes squeezed shut. 

Mercedes shifts to lay up against Annette’s side. She kisses her neck, hand splaying in the space between her boobs. The way she’s laying gives Ingrid a beautiful view of her body, the way her soft stomach curves into her thighs, the arch of her spine and the slope of her ass. She gazes up at Ingrid through her hair, tauntingly. 

Annette tilts her head to give Mercedes better access. “P-please move,”

Ingrid rolls her hips experimentally and Annette cries out. She finds a pace, steady with enough power that their skin smacks together gently, and Annette moans like she has never felt anything better. In an attempt to get better leverage, Ingrid lifts her other thigh, and that earns a stream of curses in addition to her moans. 

Again, pride rushes through Ingrid. Annette comes undone underneath her, and Mercedes is watching her intently. Every thrust jostles them both, and Ingrid can’t help but watch Mercedes’ soft body shake against Annette. She’s starting to sweat, but that doesn’t stop her from picking up the pace. 

Mercedes slides her hand from Annette’s chest and creeps it between her legs. She begins to move her fingers across her clit, leaving Annette practically shouting. Burying her face in against her ear she asks, “Is it good?”

“Y-es,”

“Good,” she purrs. “How does it feel?”

“Good, so good, so full and warm,”

“Are you close?”

“Yes, please, harder, please!”

Mercedes turns her piercing gaze back to Ingrid. “You heard her,”

“Yes,” Ingrid breathes. She snaps her hips against her as hard as she can manage, causing the headboard to shake. Mercedes follows Annette’s hips, expertly keeping her fingers on the prize. Annette is moaning and babbling “Yes”s and “Please”s, getting higher and higher pitched. Her body arcs off the bed when she comes, her moan caught in her throat.

Ingrid stills, leaving herself almost fully seated. Mercedes continues to toy with her, making her legs twitch and eliciting little whimpers. 

“S-stooop,” Annette whines, and Mercedes giggles. She heaves a sigh and glances up at Ingrid, who is still slightly out of breath. “Pull out slow,”

Ingrid does, watching. Annette gasps a little as the head pops out, and Ingrid revels a bit in the slick, puffy mess she leaves behind. 

“Your turn,” Annette says to Mercedes after she catches her breath. 

Mercedes huffs, and actually looks a little embarrassed. She makes no move to accommodate the statement. 

Annette, still panting, looks up to Ingrid. “She wants you to make her,”

“Annie-“

Annette talks through her protest. “She does, she told me. She wants you to... grab her a little bit, move her around, like you mean it.” 

Mercedes doesn’t say anything, or look at her. Ingrid relates to the feeling well now. Gently, but firmly, she says, “Nod if that’s what you want.” 

Blonde hair shakes gratefully. Annette’s eyes light up a bit. 

“Move,” Ingrid says to Annette. She struggles to keep her voice level. 

“Yes, of course.” Annette scurries out of the way. She doesn’t go far, and this time looks to Ingrid for direction. 

Steeling herself, Ingrid grabs Mercedes’ thighs, pulling her as she says, “Come here.” 

Mercedes slides in the direction she’s pulled, doing her absolute best to keep her hair over her face. Her knees are clamped together, off to the side, and while it does give Ingrid a wonderful view of her ass, it's not what she wants. Now that Ingrid has decided she can bear to look, she wants to see all of her. 

“Spread your legs, Mercedes. For me.” 

She doesn’t. Ingrid can recognize when she is being toyed with. Impatient, she grabs Mercedes' knees and pulls them apart. They go easily, and she slides her hands eagerly down her soft inner thighs. 

Mercedes isn’t as small as Annette, and spread out on the bed like this, Ingrid can really appreciate all of her soft body. Her boobs flatten against her chest and her stomach rises and falls with shaky breaths. In her attempts to hide her face, she's kept her arms up above her head, allowing Ingrid to see every dip and curve of her body. She drags her eyes down, between her thighs. 

Mercedes is visibly wet, but when Ingrid drags her fingers through it, she is still surprised just how slick she is. The blonde gasps and twitches underneath her. 

“Wow, Mercie,” Annette giggles a bit. Ingrid uses both hands to spread her open, and Annette says again, “Wooooow, Mercie!”

“Do you want it?” Ingrid tries to keep her tone level. 

Mercedes nods. 

“What’s that?”

“Yes,” she whispers. 

“Yes what?” Annette pipes up, wedging herself in next to her. She brushes Mercedes’ hair out of her face and tugs it, urging her to look at Ingrid. 

Her blue eyes wander their way up to Ingrid’s face, half lidded. “Yes, I want it.” 

She doesn’t really need to, but Ingrid grips the backs of Mercedes’ thighs to adjust her. Letting the tip drag through her folds, she says to Annette, “Do you think she needs any help?”

“Not at all,” she giggles. 

She grips the base of the dildo to guide it in, just barely pushing in so it won’t slide. Mercedes twitches, and opens her eyes blearily when she doesn’t move any further. 

Ingrid meets her soft blue gaze, and then pushes forward. Mercedes cries out, her eyes rolling back. Now that she knows what she’s doing, she takes just a second before she slowly moves her hips. Mercedes’ hands fly to cover her face, gasping as Ingrid tries to establish some sort of rhythm. 

Annette watches, rapt, her eyes flicking between them eagerly. She pries Mercedes’ hands off of her face, and trails her hand across her chest, cupping a boob that bounces in time with Ingrid’s hips. 

Ingrid slows for a second, and digs her nails into soft thighs as she readjusts herself forward. Mercedes gasps, moans coming out choked as Ingrid resumes her pace at the new angle. Each thrust pulls sounds out of her mouth that she would never have dreamed of hearing. Soft lips form around each gasp, her face scrunching adorably when she moves a particular way. Annette squeezes and gropes idly, and Ingrid is intoxicated with the way her thrusting jostles all three of them together. Annette looks blissed out, eyes drooping but plenty attentive, and the thought of making Mercedes look that happy as a result spurs her on. 

“Annette,” she demands, panting. “Touch her.”

The redhead grins, sliding her hand down between Mercedes’ thighs. She can’t see exactly what she is doing, but whatever it is causes Mercedes to grow even louder. Her hips twitch and roll to meet her now, and she clutches at the pillows around her head. 

Annette rests her head close to her ear and teases, “Tell her what you need, Mercie.”

It takes a second for her to form a coherent word, but eventually manages a “H-ha-, ah! H-arder!” 

Ingrid leans over her, pushing herself deeper. Her hips slam against Mercedes’ soft thighs, and the bed starts to hit the wall. She’s sweating with the effort, but when Mercedes’ eyes flicker open to peek, she seems to enjoy it. Annette wriggles to reach with the adjustment, and they find a rhythm together, solely focused on Mercedes’ pleasure. Ingrid’s muscles start to burn, but as the girl beneath her grows more vocal and twitchy, she wouldn’t dare stop. Barely aware how hard she’s panting, her own soft grunts are drowned out by the cleric’s gasps and moans. 

The words start off so jumbled she doesn’t hear them at first, but a litany of, “Please, just like that, please don’t stop,” begin to spill from her mouth. Ingrid meets Annette’s gaze, equally as awestruck, before they double down to the task at hand. “Please,” turns into “yes, yes, yes,” before a final tense and shuddering moan. Ingrid pushes in deep and stays there, thinking how Annette had throbbed against her tongue and how Mercedes is probably pulsing around the toy. 

After several heaving breaths, she slowly lowers their hips to the bed, barely pulling out. She spreads Mercedes’ shaking thighs wide to drink in one more good look as she pulls the rest of the way out. She whimpers as the head slips free, and Ingrid rests back on her knees, muscles burning. 

Mercedes curls in on herself a bit, nuzzling into Annette. She glances up, eyes unfocused through her hair and rasps, “Take that off and come here,”

Ingrid fumbles with it for a moment, eventually slipping the harness off and setting it on the pile of clothes on the floor. She moves to lay next to Mercedes, pressing her chest against her back. They're both clammy and panting, and when she lays her arm across her side, her hand brushes across Annette’s as well. They lay, evening out their breathing, tucked into each other. 

After a few moments Annette says, “Well, Ingrid? Was that what you expected?” Mercedes breathes out a laugh. 

“I think it was better than I expected,” Ingrid mumbles, face smushed into the skin of her back. 

“That’s good,” Mercedes’ voice is hoarse, but her teasing tone is back. “You did a wonderful job,”

“You really did. I don’t believe you never did it before.”

Ingrid smiles, “Thank you for teaching me.”

Annette sits up slightly now, looking over at her. “Are you ever gonna tell us who you wanted to learn for?”

Ingrid’s face burns. “I told you, I don’t really know…”

Mercedes’ tone cuts through her, “That was a lot of dedication for someone who doesn’t know.”

Annette giggles, but Ingrid can’ t tear her eyes away from Mercedes’ piercing blue gaze. She must know, but any admission is stuck deep in her throat. She smiles nervously, shrugging. Blessedly, Mercedes shifts on the bed, beginning to adjust her pillow.

“Rest with us for a bit, hm? There is nothing pressing to attend to.”

“A-are you sure-”

“Of course!” Annette butts in. “Mercie, maybe we can invite her back sometime. Until she’s ready to ask the lucky lady out.”

Mercedes looks to Annette and grins, leaning over to kiss her. When she looks back at Ingrid it's with a warmth that she says, “I’m sure we can make room for her any time.”

As Ingrid snuggles down beside Mercedes, she runs her words through her head again and again. She drifts off to sleep overthinking it, but comforted by the soft breathing of the girls next to her. She really could have only meant one thing, right?

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading pls kudo and comment if u enjoyed and check out my other fe3h stuff <3


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